Tiny Dancer
by DeidaraStalker408
Summary: Everyone can change. Sometimes, the people you least expect can change before your eyes. And that change happens so fast, you hardly notice until the process of change is over. They'll change before you even have time to blink.
1. Chapter 1

**Tiny Dancer**

A NaruHina Mini-Series

One, two, three.

One, two three.

One, two three.

My world was spinning around me at what seemed to be the speed of light. I blinked repeatedly, trying to regain a bit of wetness to my dry eyes; as I spun, air danced around me as it whipped at my iridescent orbs, causing them to burn.

I bit down on my lower lip, forcing myself to twirl faster and faster. My mind was a mess-- I couldn't focus on anything but the task at hand.

My right foot tripped over my left, my whole body being forced to topple over onto the wooden-panneled floor beneath me. My eyes widened and my mouth opened a fraction, letting a shrill cry escape my thin, pink lips.

Eyelids closing sharply, I landed on my back; my tounge was accidentally bitten, and I could feel the small trickle of blood flowing onto the bottom of my mouth. The taste reminded me of rust.

"Ah," I winced, beginning to sit up from my current position. My small hand reached up towards the back of my head, rubbing it in a soothing manner. It, too, had smacked the hardwood floor of the dance studio, and had caused a wave of shock to run through my veins. Soon following the shock, was the stinging sensation of pain.

Quiet as it was, I could perceive the sound of tisking emitting from the coreographer standing in the front of the room. All I could do was wait for the harsh reprimand.

"Oh, come now, Hinata," she scolded. "You've been here for five years, and you still can not do a simple piroutte?"

Why did I feel as if I were being slapped?

"S-Sorry," I appologized, my eyes returning to the floor beneath me as I pushed myself up from it. My arms crossed themselves over my chest, a sign of embarrassment and humiliation.

I watched as my instructor placed her hands on her face and begin massaging her features, as if she was tired of having to go through this with me every lesson. Honestly, I couldn't blame her for acting the way she was, because she _did_ have to slap my wrists every lesson, and would become aggrivated for obvious reasons. Still, I could not pretend as if I was not hurt by her actions.

"You know," she told me in a quiet voice, "I wonder how much longer you'll proceed with this until you let me off the hook."

I shrunk back as I felt tears watering up in my glassy orbs, which I refused to let fall in front of her. This would only show her that I was weak, and I would not give her the satisfaction.

"So, y-you wish for me to quit?" I inquired softly, stuttering only slightly.

"Well, obviously," she answered, her hands falling from her face to send a glare my way. Was this really how she felt?

I gulped, and moved towards the door, my head down as a dozen pairs of eyes were held on my retreating form. Didn't I have it in me to stand up straight, and carry my pride with me out the door?

I heard a loud coughing noise from behind me, but I did not turn around.

"And where are you going?" I heard my instructor calling after me, her stern voice cold.

I faked a smile, and grabbed my bag from beside the door. "I am honoring your wishes," I answered lightly, my hand reaching out towards the door handle. The frigid metal sending shivers up my leotard-clad body as I turned it as slowly as was humanly possible.

Without another word, I walked out the door, and out into the icy winter's night air.

* * *

I could percieve small whispers from other girls around me, catching my name on the topic of conversation. Many of the so-called "popular" girls at our school were in ballet with me, and were now speaking of my inquiry to call it quits at Miss Nobunaga's School of Dance.

A splash of crimson held my features in a facelock as I trecked down the wide hallway; I figured that if I could get to my locker in time, I might not have to deal with the many tauntings from the other girls in my class.

Sadly, this was not the case.

"Hey! Hinata!" I heard Ino's loud, obnoxious voice humming loudly over the many quiet conversations. My heart thudded on at a faster rate, and I picked up my walking pace to a powerwalk.

A loud whack on my middle-back stopped me right in my tracks.

"Hey," the blonde laughed, "that was some scene at the studio last night!"

I didn't dare look in to her eyes. "Yeah," I agreed, "I-I suppose."

"I can't believe you couldn't do a pirouette!" she continued. "Didn't we learn those, like, three years ago?"

My blush deepened. "Yeah, uh, I think it was four."

She slapped her forehead with a roll of her eyes. "Oh, yeah; of course it was four! Silly me."

_Yes, Ino,_ I thought angrily, _silly you._

"So, you're actually not coming back?" she asked, trying to sound concerned, though failing miserably.

I took a few steps away from her, now standing before my locker. As I fumbled with the conversation, I felt Ino's presence standing behind me, waiting for an answer.

"Yes," I answered, "I'm not going back."

"Aw," she said with another attempt at apathy, "that's too bad, Hinata."

I shrugged, trying to show her that I was completely indifferent about the matter, even though inside I felt like balling my eyes out.

Ever since I was twelve, I had been dancing at the academy. Now, I was stuck without a fulfilled dream. Although I wished so badly for me to have at least i some /i talent with the sport, I could not change what I was not born with.

"Well," Ino sighed, finding that I was not going to be open with her about the matter at hand, "I guess I'm going to the next class. Later."

I didn't look up from my place in front of my locker to watch her walk away from me, because, to be brutally honest, I couldn't care less if she was here or not. She had absolutely no brain power inside her head, so whenever I was around her, I felt as if I were talking to a potato-- a spud.

Fumbling with the lock on my locker, I began to have trouble with the opening of my pint-size cabinet. Quickly was I growing impatient, and began to fumble with it even more ferociously.

"Please, locker," I murmured quietly, as if pleading with the compartment to let me inside. "My class starts in three minutes, and I need my stuff."

I huffed.

"Need some help?" I heard a light, raspy voice call from behind me.

I blinked, and turned to my right. My heart felt as if it were clogged up the back of my throat, a thick layer of blush reappearing on my cheeks.

"U-Uh," I stuttered, wanting to slap myself for doing so in front of that blue-eyed beauty.

"Here," he offered, stepping a few feet closer, lightly taking the lock from my grasp. I held the gasp in my throat, along with my heart, as his long and tan fingers brushed past my bony, pale ones.

He grinned as he began randomly turning the dial of the lock, before glancing down at me. His eyes caught mine in a short-lived gaze; those crystalline orbs of his held amusement and happiness.

Suddenly, I noticed that his lips were moving, forming words that I was too dense to comprehend at the moment. Shaking my head, I now recognized that he was asking me for my combination.

"O-Oh, it's twenty-two, eighteen, seven," I told him, averting my eyes from his gracious form. Moments later, a loud click was heard on my lock; a metallic blue could be seen extended out towards me from the corner of my eye.

Taking the lock from his palm, my blush deepened-- was that even possible?-- and I kept my eyes focused on my shoes.

"All right," he sighed, forcing his hands into the pockets of his orange pants, "I guess I'll see you in Language Arts. Okay?"

Finally taking a glance up at him, I found a smile dancing up on his soft, full lips. This, of course caused a smile to leak on to my lips, as well.

"Okay," I replied, and waved to him as he began to walk away from me.

He turned his head around a fraction to face me, and I caught a sparkle in his eye as he waved back at me.

"Later, Hinata!" he called.

"B-Bye, Naruto!" I spoke quietly, but my tone held inconceivable amounts of merriment.

_Uzumaki Naruto,_ I thought, _you never cease to amaze me._


	2. Chapter 2

**Tiny Dancer**

A NaruHina Mini-Series

A week had past since my run-in with Naruto, though his clear, blue orbs remained vivid in my mind's eye. It seemed that for that week, all I could manage to lock my thoughts on was his beautiful features. Amazing to me, it was, how someone could be created so perfectly. I wondered if there could ever be someone more perfect than he in the world-- my gut instincts told me that that was highly unlikely.

I continued to dance, although it was deep within the confinements of my home. The whole ordeal remained to me an open wound that had yet to be healed; everytime I slipped on my leotard to practice, my mood saddened a great amount.

To me, it seemed as if I were a hopeless case, one that could never be helped. My imperfections had caused me to wind up in a sour predicament, and I wondered if I would ever be able to dance again, knowing that my dream could never be fulfilled.

Over the course of that week, school had been real trouble for me. Ino continued to pester me, and a few of the other girls had cornered me about the subject between classes as well. They just wouldn't stop tormenting me (although, granted, a few of the questioneers had asked me about it with good intentions).

Even so, it was still painful for me to speak about, so I had trained myself to become immune. You know, like, if you're immune to something such as the chicken pox, it can't affect you. That's how I liked to picture what I was doing. Comparing the two side-by-side now, it seems to be a fairly accurate comparison.

What I had done was numb myself down just enough so that I couldn't feel the burn of the countless questions thrown my way about quitting the academy. Answering everything I could for anyone who had asked, I performed the tasks with little effort and ended with a promising result.

However, I could only become "numb", so to speak, for so long before everything hit me like a slap in the face. Thankfully, the aftermath usually occured once I had reached the shelters of the Hyuga residence.

Except for that one fateful afternoon.

The afternoon that changed everything.

* * *

_Scribble, scribble._

_Scribble, scribble._

_Scribble, scribble._

The sound of my pencil making contact with the blank sheet of paper on my desk sounded quietly in the classroom; seeming like echoes, the other students' own scriptures created the same noise. I glanced back up to the chalkboard, which hung in the front of the room, which an enormous equation was written upon.

Struggling with a section of the problem, my forehead creased together in confusion and aggrivation.

_Come on, lunch bell,_ I thought, _just ring so I can get out of here!_

And, as if I had been blessed by the gods, the shrill pinging noise of the bell saved me from having to complete the problem. I sighed happily, brushing a few strands of my long, cobalt blue hair behind my shoulders.

I stood up from my chair, and placed the equation in my backpack, which hung loosely on the back of my chair. Heaving the pack over my right shoulder, I began my walk out the classroom door and out into the busy hallways of the high school. My hand reached down towards my pocket, making sure that I had my lunch money with me. Sure enough, the money was there, landing a smile smack-dab onto my lips.

"Hey, Hinata!" I heard the low voice of Kiba bark from behind me.

My head spun around as I turned to face the boy, my smile only growing bigger. I waved to him, receiving a canine grin from the mutt.

"Hello, Kiba," I replied to him as he caught up to me; his arm wrapped its way around my shoulders, giving me a light squeeze.

"And how are you on this fine, fine day?" he inquired lightly, his slitted eyes catching a glint of sunlight that was streaming down into the school.

"I'm fine," I told him, making sure to keep in stride with the abnormally fast-paced boy.

"Ready for lunch?" he asked.

"You bet," I answered, sighing. "I think I almost died when I saw that equation in Calculus."

He laughed. "Yeah, that was hell, wasn't it?"

Nodding, I turned my head to the right as Kiba began directing me towards some unknown destination, also located on the right.

My eyes caught sight of the teenage Aburame, his dark, round spectacles making him look a bit shady. He rummaged through his locker quickly, pulling out a brown lunch bag before slamming the door shut.

"Hey," Kiba greeted, though received nothing in reply from Shino. The tall brunette remained silent, just as he always was.

"Shino," I asked, "are you coming to lunch with us?"

Of course, he said nothing, but in response to me, he held up the paper sack in his right hand. I blushed a little, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Right, then," Kiba said, waving his hand as if calling for Shino to follow him. He turned me around and began his way towards the cafeteria. "Let's eat."

As we entered the lunch room, I observed the many crowds of teens all about, sitting with others like them. Of course, there were The Bookworms, The Jocks, The Burnouts, The Artistic Rejects, The Band Geeks (which was where I found Naruto sitting), The Punks and Goths, The Girls-With-Eating-Disorders, and the many other students who merely did not fit in to a group (all of whom were scattered about the room).

But there, near the center of the lunch room, sat a group of girls. All wearing similar clothes, which I was guessing to be the new fashion. Hues of pinks, purples, and blues colored the small table. The small table where I used to sit.

The Ballet Table.

"Kiba," I told him, my sad eyes turning from the table to the canine, "I think that I am going to ask them if I can rejoin them."

Kiba's happy expression soon melted away, revealing a hard one. His grip on my shoulder tightened.

"Hinata," he told me in a stern voice, "you are not one of them anymore."

I bit my lip, my gaze now on the tiled floor beneath me. "I-I know," I answered, "b-but I think that if I asked, they might--"

"Hinata," he said, his free hand balling up into a fist at his side, "just forget them. They don't know what they're missing out on."

After a moment of silence, I nodded. I remained silent as the pup guided me towards an empty table, which had been reserved for us three. Ever since my extraction from the dance academy, Kiba and Shino had given up their seats at their old tables to sit with me; I had no group, anymore, so I would have had to sit alone had it not been for them.

Dancing was a big deal at our school. It had even evolved into something a bit more sought-after than cheerleading, which was saying quite a bit. That was why my discontinuance of practice at the academy had risen such a controversy at school.

As I took a seat down at the table, I forgot all about buying a lunch. All my mind could keep itself focused on was the burning sensation of stares from the other girls whom I had used to sit with; the intensity of the stares had caused me to want to cry.

_Think, "numb,"_ I thought furiously. _"Numb." It's the only way for you to forget about them. Just think, "numb."_

My shoulders were shaking as silent sobs escaped my chest. I could feel an empathetic gaze on me; my eyes turned upwards, to find Shino's line of vision directed my way.

I bit down on my lip harder.

"Hinata?" Kiba asked confusedly, suddenly noticing that something was wrong. "Are you all right?"

"N-No," I stuttered, though it was not caused by nervousness-- the muted sobs had surfaced.

Kiba's eyes turned suprised as he placed a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, Hinata," he told me, "don't even think twice about those bitches over there. They don't deserve your tears."

It was then that I noticed the steady flow of salty drops falling down my cheeks. I reached my hand up to my face to brush them away, but stopped before I could continue. A voice from behind me was calling my name. . . .

A light, raspy voice.

"Hinata?" he asked; I could hear his footsteps growing nearer. My heartbeat pulsed faster, my blood flowing through my veins at a quicker rate. Beside me, I noticed a suprised look gracing Kiba's face, which soon turned to stone.

"Hey, Blondie," Kiba snarled, "get away from her."

"Shut up, Kiba!" I heard him retort as I imagined him pointing a finger at the boy, whose looks resembled a dog. "I can do what I want! It's not like you're her _mother_, or something!"

That shut him up.

"Hey, Hinata," Naruto murmured, bending down to the level at which I was currently located. He gave me a sympathetic look, his smile crooked. "Don't worry; I bet you're a great dancer!"

"Naruto, I swear that I am going to beat the shit out of you," Kiba snarled from beside me.

The blonde ignored him. "You don't need those girls; they're superficial, and _really_ annoying. I bet that if you try really hard, you can become a better dancer than they will ever be. Believe it!"

My eyes traveled from their place on the rusted lunch table towards Naruto; his eyes were bright and his signature grin had reappeared. I laughed through the many tears traveling down my face, then lifted my wrist upwards to wipe away my tears. Again, I was stopped before I could continue.

"Here," Naruto offered, handing me a handkerchief while rubbing my back in soothing motions, trying to help my current disposition.

I laughed again, taking the cloth from his hands; it was orange. I brought it up to my face and dried my tears. When I was finished, the handkerchief was damp with tear stains.

"S-Sorry, Naruto," I blushed, handing him back the cloth.

He grinned cheesily, making me wonder if he was completely oblivious to my affections towards him. "Don't worry about it, Hinata, I'm just glad you're in a better mood. Tears don't suit you very well, you know."

I sniffed, smiling a fraction. "Th-Thank you, Naruto; I-I appreciate it."

The blue-eyed boy took the handkerchief from my grasp, and shoved it back into his pocket. Standing up, he gave me a short salute before taking back off towards his lunch table.

"Really, Hinata," I heard Kiba snort from beside me. "I really think your taste in men would have been better."

I turned around to face Kiba, my face beet red. "U-Uh, no, Kiba! You've got it all wrong!"

"Sure, sure," he sniffed. "But that's not what your face says."

I turned away from him, my eyes resuming their spot on the table. Hearing a cough from Shino, I looked upwards at him.

"Good luck," he wished me quietly, saying nothing more.

I grinned at him lightly, my blush still staining my cheeks happily.

"Thank you, Shino," I told him. "Really. Thank you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Tiny Dancer**

A NaruHina Mini-Series

I let my fingers grasp the silver handle of Kiba's 1997 Mustang, before pulling it outwards and opening up the passenger's side door. Slipping into the tan, leather seat, I waited for the dog-like boy to put the car into drive.

As I waited, I heard the other teens in the Volvo next to us talking about the upcoming town's fair, which was hosted by our school. I had only gone once before, and I hardly found it enjoyable.

"Ready to go home?" Kiba asked with a playful grin.

"Yes," I told him simply.

He laughed. "Long day, huh?"

"Mmhmm," I breathed, my eyes closing as I leaned my head backwards, letting it rest upon the plush seat with a soft _plop_.

Without another word, Kiba turned the key and ignited the vehicle to life. Almost immediately, a loud, ear-piercingly sharp noise (I would say "song," but it just didn't sound like something that could be even remotely considered music) blasted through the car's sound system. I wanted to rip my ears off so that I couldn't hear the screeching being pulsed through my body; the base was up too high for my liking.

Kiba began bobbing his head to the music faintly, so I guessed that he enjoyed this racket.

Inwardly shrugging, I tried ignoring it as best as I could.

A few songs later, I felt my bubble beginning to burst. Only a bit longer could I hold onto my sanity before I crushed his stereo into a million pieces with a high-impactational object.

"Um, Kiba?" I asked softly. It seemed as if he did not hear me, for his gaze on the road ahead of him did not falter.

"Kiba," I said a bit louder, my hand reaching out to him while shaking his shoulder gently. Finally noticing the fact that I was trying to get his attention, his hand reached out towards the radio and turned it down, though only quiet enough so that he could hear me while still listening to the current screamo song being played.

"Yeah?" he countered, turning towards me briefly before his eyes returned to the road.

"Uh," I faltered, "c-can't we listen to something else? I mean, just for a little while. . . ."

He paused before a laugh escaped his lips, his head nodding as he reached over me and pushed the storage compartment open.

"Just check in there for something you want to listen to," he instructed, pointing in the general area of the compact disks, which littered the entire storage space.

I pulled out a few disks, and read the titles of a few of the bands. None where any that I had ever heard of before, so I had to judge by Kiba's choice in music that they were loud, heavy rock. I shook my head, and pulled out a few more.

I grinned.

_The Beatles,_ I thought in relief. _And I was beginning to doubt our taste in music was the same at all._

I slipped the CD into the stereo, and waited a moment for the system to load the disk. The light-hearted compositions of The Beatles filled the Mustang, my ears finally readjusting to the change in sound frequency.

Hearing the laughter of Kiba beside me, I turned to him to find him laughing at my choice in music.

"What is it, Kiba?" I asked softly.

He sniggered. "Should have known you'd pick something like this." He ruffled my hair.

Sadly, the gut-wretching music had taken up the majority of my ride home, so within minutes, I had to kiss the four bowl-cutted, song-happy boys goodbye.

I stepped out of the car with a smile, then shut it behind me quietly. I turned around, and gave Kiba a small wave. He waved back, and muttered a small "goodbye" before pulling out of our driveway.

A sigh brushed past my lips as I stepped through the entrance to my home, being greeted by the scent of green tea and herbs. Hiashi-sama must've been drinking it again-- for a while, his stress level had been unusually high, and had begun drinking the tea for reasons unknown to the rest of the family. I suppose it had become some sort of stress-reliever for him. . . . or, something similar.

I grinned, slipping my shoes off at the front door before making my way further into the Hyuga compound. My bare feet made small patting sounds on the hardwood floors beneath me, the skin on my soles sticking to the cool wood.

As I made my way down the hallway, I paused at a room which our family had designed for Hanabi's and my own use; my happy disposition changed from merry to cold, and my pale eyes turned sad.

My younger sister was practicing her pirouettes in the Ballet Room, making me feel self-consious. The way she turned, time after time, was nearly perfect-- something I would never be able to accomplish. It was a drawback that foced me to retire my dream.

Eyes now turned to the floor, I continued on past Hanabi and her effortless pirouettes.

From out of nowhere, my body made contact with a much taller, broader one. A light gasp escaped from my mouth, my eyes traveling upwards to meet a pair of pearly, lavender ones-- they looked very much like my own.

I bit my lip.

"N-Neji-sama," I murmured, "s-sorry. I-I wasn't--"

"It's fine," he sighed, walking past me in a huff, without another word. His footsteps colliding with the wood beneath him made loud squeaks as he turned the corner.

My eyes returned to the floor, and I forced my legs to take me towards the comforts of my room; it seemed that in that moment, I needed something soft and comforting.

(Perhaps, no matter how old you get, you will always need a big, fluffy pillow to squeeze the life from. That way, you won't accidentally bite someone's face off instead.)

I closed my eyes as my face hit the soft comforts of my bed, grateful for the sensation of being consoled silently by the sleek, silken sheets. It was just what I needed after a long day at school, and what seemed to be an even longer future ahead of me, filled with what I knew to be continuous tauntings of dancing.

_I just wish I could fly away from here,_ I thought to myself. _Somewhere far away, where nothing can touch me._

It just wasn't fair, how everything terrible always seemed to happen to me. Why? Does God hold something against me? Have I ever done something so wrong as to deserve any of this? Nothing made sense to me. I felt as if I had been cursed-- a curse which could never be lifted.

My cousin, Neji, had been blessed with charm, dashingly handsome good looks, and was the most saught-after boy in his high school days.

What did I have? Nothing but shyness, an average form, and (a bit less than) average grades, to boot. On top of all that, I couldn't even accomplish the one thing I had a passion for.

I felt like I had been given the short end of the stick.

"Bringggggggggggggggggggg! Bringgggggggggggggggggggg!"

The sound of the phone ringing pulled me out of my trance-like state, and back into reality; thankfully, for I had almost been consumed in self-pity.

My hand immediately reached for the phone, lounging on its base upon my bedside table. Fingers numbly punching at the numbers on it, I finally pushed the right one to allow myself to tune into the opposite end of the phone line.

"Hyuga residence," I said clearly into the speaker.

A pause, before a voice replied, "Hinata?"

My heart skipped a beat. No, wait-- two. A blush cradled my face, holding it gently in place, though with a firmness that told me it would not be letting go any time soon.

"Y-Yes?" I answered.

I was greeted by laughter; it was raspy, but merry, nonetheless. Then came a sniff, which was followed by a greeting:

"Hey, Hinata," Naruto said calmly, my heart pumping blood through my veins twice as fast as it normally did.

I gulped before speaking once again. "O-Oh! H-Hello, Naruto," I stuttered, slapping myself in the face.

Lightly, he laughed again. "Sorry if this is a bad time, I just had a question for you."

I nodded, though knew he couldn't see me. "Yes?"

"Well," he said, drawing out the "l"s, "I somehow wound up with two tickets to the fair." He chuckled. "Bet that makes me sound like a loser."

I remained silent, though wanted to tell him strongly that he most certainly did not sound like a loser. Of course, I was too shaken by the fact he was even calling me to say anything.

"So, anyways," he continued, "I just wanted to know if, perhaps, you knew Sakura's phone number?"

My heart felt like it was on fire.

Until I heard a chain of loud, deep-pitched laughs erupting from the receiver.

"Oh my God," he wheezed between cracks of laughter, "I can't believe you fell for that! Oh, Hinata, you're so funny!"

Slowly, I regained my composure, though just enough to choke out, "So, y-you won't be needing Sakura's number?"

"No!" he laughed. "Actually, I wanted to know if you'd wanna come with me to the festival. I mean, you know, it could be fun."

I blinked once.

I blinked twice.

I blinked three times.

"N-Naruto?" I asked unsurely. "U-Um, could you please repeat th-the question?"

Muffled laughter was my response. "All right, Hinata," he told me, "if you're really going to make me ask it: Would you like to go to the festival with me this weekend?"

My heart had now stopped for the length of five beats. The blush which had once graced my cheeks now stained them the color of a ripe tomato. Tears still pricked near the corners of my eyes, though for opposite reasons. Slowly, a smile crept upon my lips, and held them in that position sturdily.

I paused, then spoke.

"Naruto," I told him, "i-it would be an honor to go with you."

"Great!" he exclaimed. "I'm glad-- I figured it would be best for you to have something to look forward to this weekend after such a shitty day."

My eyes watered.

"Y-Yes," I answered, "you've m-made my day much brighter."

"That's good to hear," he laughed, though stopped abruptly. "I've gotta go now," he said lightly, "but I'll see you at school tomorrow. All right?"

I nodded again. "Of course. S-See you tomorrow, then."

"Bye!" he said, then cut the line out.

A soft tear flew down my cheek, followed by another. Though, it was for different reasons than the cruel joke Naruto had pulled on me only moments before.

It was because . . . when he said goodbye, his voice held a smile. And to know that he was smiling on my behalf made all the difference in the world to me.

But that was before I suddenly remembered something. Something that would turn my supposedly-cheerful weekend into pure hell.

"Oh my God," I murmured, "I have a soft stomach."

And that means, my dearest, dearest friends, that having any fun at the fair with Naruto would be a negatory-- I was going to be in for it.

And, for this reason, the whole evening would unfold in sheer horror.

_Perfect,_ I thought to myself, _I am committing suicide. Just perfect._


End file.
